


With Ezira it is Easy

by terryreviews



Series: Ezira and Anthony [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Making Love, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 22:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: Your first day as Ezira's assistant and honestly, he just looks so damn tempting sitting at his desk.





	With Ezira it is Easy

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this. It took a LONG time compared to my other stories in this series to get this moderately right and still I feel something is lacking BUT again, I had fun writing this. I hope you have fun reading it. If you have any constructive criticism or comment, please feel free to leave them. I appreciate them :)

The day prior, after you hugged him for giving you the job, you were more than ready to begin.

“Oh, not today,” he patted your shoulder, “today is an easy day. We'll start tomorrow.”

“What time should I come in?”

He blinked, owlish, looked down at his lap before looking back at you. “What time would you like to come in?”

You bit down a laugh, “I don't think that's how it is suppose to work.”

“No? Ah, well then I suppose I'm an unconventional employer.”

For his part, Ezira was delighted by the novelty of having an employee. He just had no idea what to do with one.

You arrived an hour before the shop was meant to be open. Showered and dressed in a knee length skirt that had some swish (and instantly regretted it with the cold as you walked) with a button up top, you felt you were showing effort and took this opportunity seriously. You tapped on the glass and Anthony let you in.

Ezira was in the backroom, sifting through papers, and greeted you with an upbeat,

“Good morning!”

From there, he made a valiant effort to be authoritative and professional. It lasted an hour.

He gave you a form to fill out. A single sheet that you got the feeling he'd just typed it (one finger at a time) before you'd gotten there.

After that, he gave you the tour of the shop, growing simultaneously excited and distracted as he pointed out sections and very special editions.

“And this one was quite the find. Imagine, being kept in a damp basement. Took me ages to rid it of mold, freshen up the pages. I did have to replace the entire cover, but I feel I did well on the the replica.”

The book was an obscure spy novel from 1964. It was the only book the author ever wrote and was published when he was forty. It had a limited run and Ezira had managed to track down a copy.

“He'd spent the last five weeks writing this, alternating between his typewriter and whiskey. It took considerable effort to get him to eat a proper meal. Poor fellow,” Ezira shook his head, “he tried. Truly.” He tenderly pushed the book back into place.

“How do you know so much about the author? If it was the only book he wrote, didn't have many copies, wasn't popular, there can't be much information out there?” You asked.

Ezira, startled, averted his eyes, fiddling with a different book, “I, uh, met him. Yes. I met him a number of years ago. Him and his wife. Both were elderly.” There was something that rang untrue in Ezira's words, but there was no reason to doubt him and so you ignore the suspicion.

“I see.” You glanced at the shelf, one of many in the shop. Despite everything being labeled (the section you were in front of was meant to be history) there were many bleed overs of different genres into one another. The spy novel was place in the historical section, which was next to romance novels, next to cook books, and within all of these were books from different genres.

Perhaps this organization had made sense to Ezira at some point (he seemed to know where all the books were) but after years, it grew muddled. He added and added and added. So many books shoved here, tucked there, stacked on tables. The signs, in that case, were decorative.

If he really wanted you to help him, you certainly had job security.

He showed you the register. Massive and ancient. He liked the clacking of the keys and the little ring the machine made when used.

“And this area is where I keep my prophetic books. All signed by the authors.”

You gaped, “you have a book by Nostradamus?” You didn't believe in the validity of his prophetic work. Most of it was nonsense that anyone could project anything on, but you knew who he was, knew that his works were held in _some_ regard, and as such, a manuscript signed by him would be quite the rare find.

“Yes. His prophetic style was not my personal favorite. A tad vague, but still interesting.”

“You believe in prophecies,” you noted the assortment of different books of prophecy by authors that you'd never heard of.

“To an extent.”

“What about free will?”

“I wholeheartedly support it.”

He swept pass you and you took the hint and dropped the topic. Fair. It was early morning. Mornings and philosophy didn't mix.

“That is it,” Ezira led you back to the backroom, which was becoming more and more familiar to you, and went to his desk.

Anthony, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, snagged you about the waist and tugged you down next to him.

“Angel give you the tour?”

“Yeah, looks great. But you're right about one thing. It's a mess.”

Anthony laughed and Ezira made a tsk, “it is a tad disorganized I grant you, but a mess?”

“Mess,” Anthony challenged, sticking out his tongue.

Ezira rolled his eyes at the two of you before saying, “Crowley dear, might you pop off and get some of those cakes and such from the bakery. You know the one.”

Anthony polished off his glass and you took it for him as he stood, “you placed an order or am I picking things out when I get there?”

“Whatever you want to get dear boy.”

“Sure,” he went and gave Ezira a peck on the lips and with a little wave, “be back soon.”

And with that, he left.

The shop was quiet. A ticking of a clock filling up the space. Ezira went to working on some plan, some notes, on how he wanted to organize and categorize the books and told you to make yourself comfortable as he did so given you couldn't very well start any duties without his guidance in what he wanted.

You didn't know what to do, hadn't brought anything with you, and so sat on the couch in silence as the minutes passed by.

Periodically, your eyes wandered towards the man. His glasses were perched on his nose. He looked adorable and comfortable as he concentrated.

“Are you going to stare at me,” he peered over the rims of his glasses at you, “or would you like to come over?” He pushed out his chair and patted his thighs.

When you hesitated and the tell tale blush crept into your cheeks, Ezira's eyebrow raised.

“Come now dear, you can snuggle me, sleep next to me, but can't sit on my lap?”

You wanted to say that it was different, but found no words. It was just being close, right? Bracing yourself, you got off of the couch and made your way over to him.

You went to plop down on his lap but he caught your hips and turned you so you faced him. With a flick of his eyes, he indicated what he wanted. You cleared your throat, shuffled your feet, and silently agreed.

With Ezira, it was easy. The stirrings of pleasure began flowing through your system, overwhelming your senses in a thick, lazy way. An unhurried flood of love and want as he pulled you close. Your thighs spreading as you settled onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your mid-back, your's resting on his shoulders as your hands toyed with the hair at the base of his skull.

“There,” his eyes sparkled as he looked up at you, “isn't that more comfortable?”

He was soft, warm, inviting. Against your underwear you could feel the button of his trousers and the twitch of his cock despite the layers.

Blinking stupidly as you took in his beautiful, smiling face you answered quietly, “it's nice.”

“Well?” He squeezed your hips, mischievous expression in place as he brought his lips close, but not touching, to your's so that you could feel his breath against them.

“Well what?”

Ezira brushed his nose against your's, “won't you kiss me?”

You swallowed, pulling your head back a fraction, heart racing. Why did you feel so shy? You'd snuggled with him, ate meals together, chatted frequently, he'd kissed your cheek, and you'd had a one night stand with the man's husband!

“S...sorry,” you buried your face into his neck inhaling his scent. A light, fruity scent tinged with a delicate, musky cologne.

“Are you alright dear?” His tone more amused and inquisitive than concerned, as if assured that you would resume in a moment, not truly distressed. And he was right. A few indulgent breaths and you sat back up to press your forehead to his and closed your eyes.

“I figured it out,” you mumbled.

“What dearest?”

“Why I'm nervous all of the sudden.”

“Why?”

“It's our first kiss,” your body trembled, and a sense of vulnerably began to grow, “and this is all so fast and I really like you Ezira.”

Ezira said nothing for a moment, and you felt one hand come off your back and go to your cheek. Reluctant, you opened your eyes. His were much too close, a blue blur, but you felt his affection.

“How fortunate that I really like you too,” his voice low, tender.

“I just...” you pulled your head away, but lifted your shoulder so that his hand was pressed more firm against your cheek.

“Y/N,” his thumb rubbed at the corner of your lips, “kiss me.”

His palm angled your face as he closed the distance and both your eyes shut. His lips easy and plump as they pressed against your's and from inside, joy. Joy crept from your heart all the way through your body leaving in its wake a heavy happiness that you were unprepared for,but decided, as Ezira's arms both returned to your hips, that it was okay.

This was okay. It was okay to like Ezira. It was okay to like Anthony.

The kiss was deep, earnest, but simple. He didn't dominate, just hinted slightly what to do.

Your nipples poke against his chest, sensitive through the fabric as the odd button or lapel rubbed against them.

You pulled away with a gasp, heart danced as you looked into Ezira's face.

Lips moist and a darker shade of pink, cheeks flushed, eyes wanting.

“As far as first kisses go,” Ezira's voice had grown breathy, “that was fantastic.

You tried and failed to keep the giddiness in check and once again buried your face into his shoulder with a giggle.

He scratched lightly at the nape of your neck with his finger tips until you pulled back to kiss again. This kiss no less loving in its slow embrace. Sweet and sensual. No prodding tongue, no nips, just full presses that altered their angle every so often.

You ran your hands through his hair and down his shoulders in lazy swipes, humming in contentment as his trailed up and down your back and gave little squeezes to your hips.

“Would you mind,” he managed through the kisses, “if we got more familiar?”

You pressed a kiss to his nose.

“I wouldn't mind.” You went to get up and gave him a confused look when he stopped you.

“No sense in leaving when we're already so comfortable. Besides, Crowley will be back soon, we should be down here waiting for him.”

“Is the sign for the shop even on closed?”

He waggled his eyebrows, “where's your sense of adventure?” sending your into peels of laughter.

“Well, I did do it in a car in a parking lot,” you bent down and kissed him again before rising up on your knees. “Do you want me to...” you made a gesture with your hand while glancing down at his lap and then back.

“I've got it,” without breaking eye contact, Ezira undid his belt and buttons and with some shifting, yanked himself free. Your skirt fell over it, hiding your lower halves from view but you felt the heat, the dampness against your own and _wanted_.

“Condom?”

With a flourish, Ezira pulled one from behind your ear, “I have one.”

“Oh, a magician?”

“I dabble.”

“And you do have a wand,” you couldn't keep a straight face and snorted at how cheesy that was, “sorry. I saw my chance.”

“That's alright my dear,” Ezira steadied you with one hand, while opening the wrapper with the other. You needed to take over when he couldn't get it to open with one hand, “I have another trick for you that you'll enjoy.”

“Do you?”

Ezira touched noses with you, “making my wand disappear.”

“Ha!” You gave him a hard kiss for that, “we're such dorks.”

“Perhaps,” Ezira adjusted and for a few moments there was some shifting as you kept risen on your knees. Eventually however, he managed to get the condom on and with that same hand moved your panties to the side.

“My my, someone is eager,” he traced a finger into the slick he found, earning a shudder.

“Shush. You're the one who...ah!” Your head fell forward onto his shoulder, as he rubbed your clit with soft fingertips. Small, teasing circles. Not enough to have you reach an orgasm, but enough to keep you interested.

He pressed a kiss to your neck and with a low husk said, “are you ready darling, or do you need more?'

He and Anthony so considerate.

“I want you now. Please.”

You sighed as his fingers left your clit and coaxed you to lean back with a hand to your shoulder so he could look into your eyes. He looked upon you with such love and affection that you could barely believe that you'd only known him for such a short time. He made you feel...

“I want to watch your face.” He smiled, brushing a stray hair out of your eyes.

Already aroused and comfortable, that vague part of your mind that wanted to be embarrassed was quiet.

“I intend for this to be a gentle, slow, ride. Is that alright?” He asked in such a way that was more of a statement than a question, like he knew you'd agree. And you did.

“That's okay.” Just the very notion that both of you were pretty much clothed sent a kind of thrill through you. The idea that neither of you were patient enough to strip down made you wiggle in his lap.

“Easy love. Slow remember.”

He lined himself up with one hand beneath your skirt and held your lower back with the other, and began to push in.

“Ah...fu..fuck.” Your fingers bunched into his lapels and you struggled to keep your eyes open as you let him look at you. Between the vulnerable feeling trying to creep in and the wonderful stretching fulness, it was hard to concentrate.

“So welcoming already,” his voice low, awed as you slipped down onto his lap inch by inch until you were flush against his thighs. He kissed you quickly, before taking your hips and carefully lifted you up. The drag of his cock against your inner walls earning a groan and you closed your eyes.

Back down, pause, back up, pause. He began to create a rhythm.

His breath heavy and heated, but controlled as he moved you. After a few minutes, you tried to move yourself, and felt him squeeze your hips and stop moving all together.

You opened your eyes and he looked at you with a small, confident, smile that had you biting your lip.

“Trying to rush me dear?” He asked. “Are you so eager already that you would run to finish line rather than pace yourself?” His lips found your neck and you jolted at the small nip he gave before he soothed it with a long kiss. Nuzzling his way along your neck, then jaw, his lips ghosted against the shell of your ear, “patience is a virtue.”

Once again, he began moving you, guiding you with his hands, taking the pressure off of your knees as he supported your weight. Once again, a steady, tantric, series of up and down, allowing you to feel most potently how he filled you, how he twitched or dragged against you.

You brought your hands down to rest on top of his on your hips and once again looking into his eyes, loving the lazy, smiling, aroused expression that met your's. Beautiful. Beautiful and loving. He didn't even move his hips, he didn't need to speak, just keep that easy movement and continue looking at you like that for you to melt.

The pleasure grew. Rising and burning in the best way. Coiling through you as he shifted his angle ever so slightly to hit your g-spot more frequently.

“Ezira,” your eyes shut and you tossed your head back as your climax approached. You hadn't expected it, not with how gentle and slow this all was. But here you were, ready to come on his cock alone, because of the situation, because he'd taken his time, because he knew what he was doing, and because there was love. It culminated in a romatic, arousing, atmosphere and you gasped as your pleasure flowed through you.

A few moments later, your climax came. Intense in a quiet way, your body quivering, breath ragged, fingers clenching around Ezira's as he leaned up to kiss your neck and jaw until you finally sagged down, head falling onto his chest.

He gave a couple of thrusts and groaned his own climax before slumping into his chair, sated and wrapping his arms around your back as you both panted.

Your clothes clung to the sweat, and you felt cold as the arousal ebbed away, but when you brought your lips to his, and the afterglow leaving you boneless and glowing inside, you hardly cared.

He kissed you back, rubbed your back and when you parted he was practically beaming at you.

“That was amazing.”

“You're still hard.” You could feel him still.

“I won't be for much longer. Let me stay like this with you for a moment?” Another kiss. He was liberal with kisses, with touches.

Clap, clap, clap. You jumped and turned your head to see Anthony in the door way. A reusable tote's straps wrapped around his arm, smirk on his face.

“Brava. That was quite the show.”

“Ah, welcome back darling boy,” Ezira replied with a smile, tightening his arms around you when he sensed you were going to pull away.

“And what a welcome back,” he strolled over to the pair of you and with no preamble, practically devoured Ezira's mouth with his own. You saw his tongue dart inside said mouth before he pulled back with a growl. Before you could say anything, his mouth was on your's, teeth and tongue and you felt your body (tired as it was now) thrum feebly at remembering Anthony.

When he pulled back, Ezira helped you off his lap, sliding out of you with a slick sound and your legs wobbled, Anthony steadying you as Ezira removed the condom and presumably threw it out in a waste basket next to his desk and put himself back into his trousers.

“What did you get?” He moved over to the tote and began pulling out cupcakes, “oh these are wonderful. Which one would you like Y/N? Would you like some cocoa or something else to go with it?”

You didn't mean to, truly, but you couldn't help it. The laugh started silently, shaking your body before it came out in sharp, loud, bursts. Leaving them both bemused, which made you laugh all the harder.

“You...you're too much.” You said, holding your stomach. Still laughing you went to Ezira and pressed your face into his chest and the laughter reduced to giggling, and brought him in for a tight, tight hug. “I think I'm going to like working here.”


End file.
